Tainted Blood
by KKBELVIS
Summary: Don't ask me? Ask the evil seaweed for hair, hag of a muse. LOL… AU..Sam is drinking demon blood and Dean knows. Angst/ Sam and Dean. H/C Sam. Story now complete. The final chapter six-- Fade To Black -- Can and does stand alone that is rated S for sappy
1. Chapter 1

TAINTED BLOOD

By: Karen B.

Summary: Don't ask me? Ask the evil, old, seaweed for hair, hag of a muse. LOL…Sam is drinking demon blood and Dean knows. Just a little snippet.

Disclaim: I am just a Dreamer...who likes to write imagination down. I don't own a stake in the charecters...only chase after the dreams.

You're imagination is your preview of life's coming attractions -- Albert Einstine.

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He braced his hands against the wooden dresser staring into the mirror. His greasy unkept hair hung down over his red-rimmed eyes. It didn't take a genie to know he was in a bad way. Sam frowned at the reflection of the demon sitting on the edge of the unmade bed. A slow smile crept across her face -- triggering his craving.

The air filled with the smell of sulfur, and Sam ignored the beads of sweat rolling down his back, soaking his shirt. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see outside to the blinking neon sign of the motel. The flashing red light only served to accelerate his ever-throbbing anticipation. He was addicted. Couldn't help himself. He went to her. Drunkenly stumbling his way over. He froze only for a moment, then knelt before her. He was a lost dog, begging for food.

"Please," he whispered. "I'm weak." He closed his eyes. "I need this. Need to feel the power." His gaze met hers. "Please."

"You will pay the price?" Her eyes darkened.

"Anything."

"Not anything, Sam." She caressed his cheek. "Everything." She paused. "Will you pay everything? Just say the word. One simple word."

Sam shuddered. Pretended not to be afraid. Convinced himself he was still in control. Yet, the monstrous guilt inside of him was overwhelmingly powerful -- but not powerful enough. His heart was branded, his blood tainted. The creature had moved into his soul, solidifying there like the inside hull of an old cement mixer. Dean had seen the deep end of hell, but Sam -- Sam was a part of hell. He couldn't stop himself. He had stood on the edge of the world and jumped -- there was no going back.

"Yes," he said, the word like a dying scream tumbling and twisting through the very core of his being.

She picked up the knife off the mattress, and cut deeply into her arm, immediately blood dripped from the wound. The sight of blood alone took Sam to a dark place. A place that scared the living hell that was inside of him. Sam was silent for a moment, unable to take his gaze off the blood. The liquid of life reconnecting him to the bond he had with the demon.

A rippling chill swept through Sam, so cold it burned. Like daggers of shooting icicles that had been turned to flame, the feeling rammed through him. He couldn't blink, couldn't move his head. Every fiber in him telling him this was wrong, but the enemy within was strong.

"Take it, Sam. It's yours. All that you want." She gave a cold smile holding her arm up to his mouth. "Go ahead. Lean into it. Let it control you."

Sam inhaled the scent and licked his lips. He could feel the need bubbling inside him like a black cauldron.

"It's okay. Sam, It's okay. Take it."

Wrong be damned. Sam grasped her arm with both hands, and leaned over shaking violently. He sucked, fed, the venom filtering through his veins like a coiled viper.

"Good, Sammy. Real good."

Sam drank, lips quivering, blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

His pulse was racing and his stomach roiled, his face twisting in raw agonizing pain. Wrong. Deep down inside of his flesh, he felt how wrong. Tears tugged at Sam's lids and spilled down his cheeks mixing with her blood.

"No." He ground his teeth, but continued to suck.

"You're okay. You don't have to stop. You can have it all." She ran her fingers through his hair. "Don't be afraid of it."

"Need it," he gurgled and swallowed hard.

"I know you do. You're fine. Doing fine," she spoke softly. "You do know what everything is? Don't you?" She bent over him, tauntingly. "Sammy?" She exhaled the whisper in his ear. " Dean." The word said low and deadly. "Dean is everything."

Sam jerked awake, breathing harshly inside the cool shelter of the Impala. He blinked a few times, wildly glancing around. Outside the skyline was just turning from the dark of night to the gray of early morning.

"Sam?" Dean questioned from behind the wheel.

"Yeah." Sam cleared his throat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Nightmare or real? Sam couldn't be certain anymore. When had life turned into more than a challenge? Now a framework of tiny, intricate, mismatched pieces. His destiny certain. Dean was lost to him. Sam took in a ragged breath, scared and unsure. Shaken down to an almost childlike fear of the world before him. Doubt of who he really was raining through his tainted blood.

"You okay?" Dean whispered tensely.

"What time is it?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's question and the horrible headache building behind his eyes.

"Five in the morning." Dean frowned. "I take it you had a nightmare?

Sam shrugged.

"Dude." The word hung for a moment between them.

"Dean, I don't feel like sharing." Sam slouched back against the seat and closed his eyes, trying to erase the bad feelings inside.

What happened to the time when the only creepy things he knew about were bugs, snakes and salamanders? Creatures that sparked the interest of a young inquisitive boy. How had that boy gone from playfully eating black snowballs on the dare of his brother, to drinking the blood of demons?

As Dean drove, Sam continued to stare out the window. The world before him strange and silent. Only the passing of streetlights illuminated the inside of the car. Only his inner demon echoed in his ears. What was happening to him -- to them? What was he doing? Where were they going? Would he lose the best thing he had left in this crap world? How could he stop that from happening? A helpless feeling settled in his diaphragm like a colossal-sized case of heartburn.

"Sam, I know what you're doing."

"What! Sam's head snapped around sharply, expecting to see disgust, but only catching a sad look in Dean's eyes. "What-- what do you mean?" he asked uneasily.

The very thought of Dean knowing what he was doing made a sickness creep up into Sam's throat.

"I know," Dean growled softly. "Everything."

Sam was stunned, didn't move a muscle, desperate to act unaffected by his brother's words.

"What exactly do you know?" Sam asked, playing it cool, knowing the question was moot.

Sam knew his brother well. The grave tone and mortally wounded look on Dean's face, told all. Dean did know -- everything. The pain in Dean's eyes, evident. The knowledge killing him as if Sam himself had put a bullet in his brother's heart.

Sam wanted to slide under the Impala's seat. Hide from Dean's burning look -- a look that striped him bare.

"How?" The tic in Sam's jaw tightened.

"You don't need to know that." Dean's calm tone was like a jolt of caffeine sending Sam straight and stiff in his seat, hand gripping the handle of the passenger door.

Should Sam bolt. Tuck and roll out of the car. Why hadn't Dean leapt across the seat. Why hadn't he unleashed his training, raining damage down on Sam's face -- the way he'd done in the past when Dean hadn't liked the road he'd followed.

Sam thought about denying Dean's accusation, or maybe to explain why he was doing what he was doing.

"Dean." Sam opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"Don't bother, Sam," Dean said in such a composed tone, Sam's stomach clenched and the little hairs on his arms stood to attention.

"You're not mad?" Sam dared to ask.

Dean didn't answer, gripping the steering wheel, his face ghostly pale against the dark interior of the Impala. Sam's shocked expression turned sullen. He had to make his brother understand.

"Dean, I have to be strong enough to…"

"Mad doesn't begin to explain it, okay, Sam," Dean cut him off, using the same scary, even tone. "But, I understand why you're working with hell."

"Are you sure about that?" Sam narrowed his eyes in uncertainty. "'Cause I'm not even sure I understand, Dean."

"Look, it's simple. All you need to know is --" Dean took in a breath. "Sammy, No matter what -- I promise you, we will win this war. Together. All the way. I'm not going to lose you again, and you're not going to lose me. End of story. Okay, brother?"

Baffled, Sam cocked his head, biting deep into his lip and tasting his own blood.

"Okay, Dean." Sam turned away, leaning his head against the passenger window.

"Just, no more disappearing acts. Okay, Houdini?" Dean grinned.

Sam caught Dean's eye -- a reflection in the glass. They smiled in unison. Destiny moved them forward. The message loud and clear in their world without many words. They were fighters. Born of fighters, and they would make it. The two of them. Brothers to the end. Sam sighed, tainted blood or not.

"Now you don't see that everyday!" The familiar voice shouted.

Sam jerked back, pulling away from the demon's arm. He turned to find Dean standing in the motel's open doorway behind him. Dean's expression -- ultimate disgust.

Nightmare or real. This time Sam was certain.

"Dean," Sam muttered in shock.

"Sam! What the hell are you doing?" In a blur, Dean had the demon killing knife raised high above his head. "I'm going to kill you, you bitch!" He advanced forward, fury in his eyes.

"Dean, wait." Sam stumbled to his feet. One step forward. Two steps backward. Swiping demon blood from his lips. "Let me explain." He composed himself taking up position and standing his ground in-between Dean and Lilith. "Just let me explain."

The end.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I truly wasn't planning on continuing with this AU story. But, hairy trantual, hidden in the banana crate said I had to. I don't post often in chapters. It is not in my nature to do so. And I rarely write AU type stories. So for me…this was nine counts of crazy. But, I enjoyed working with 'crazy' -- and I hope you enjoy 'crazy', too. Thank you for you time. **

**** Per usual…I only own my dreams…good, bad, or ugly.**

**TAINTED BLOOD**

**Chapter Two**

**By: Karen B.**

**I dedicate this story to my dear friend, talented writer, and shining light -- Shawne 'Til Dawn**

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**Previously on Tainted Blood:**

**Now you don't see that everyday!" The familiar voice shouted.**

**Sam jerked back, pulling away from the demon's arm. He turned to find Dean standing in the motel's open doorway behind him. Dean's expression -- ultimate disgust.**

**Nightmare or real. This time Sam was certain.**

**"Dean," Sam muttered in shock.**

**"Sam! What the hell are you doing?" In a blur, Dean had the demon killing knife raised high above his head. "I'm going to kill you, you bitch!" He advanced forward, fury in his eyes.**

**"Dean, wait." Sam stumbled to his feet. One step forward. Two steps backward. Swiping demon blood from his lips. "Let me explain." He composed himself taking up position and standing his ground in-between Dean and Lilith. "Just let me explain."**

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"Explain what, Sam? Explain to me why my baby brother would rather suck the blood from the arm of that demon bitch, then to suck face with a pretty, human girl!" Dean took another step forward, glaring at Lilith who still sat on the bed not having made one threatening move.

"Dean, just --"

"No, Sam! There's nothing you could say that would explain this!" Dean gripped the knife tighter prowling closer. "How long has this been going on?"

"Long enough," Lilith giggled, looking overly amused.

"No one asked you, bitch!" Dean shouted, glancing past Sam's shoulder. "Sam, get out of my way, so I can gank her!"

"That'd be queen, bitch to you," Lilith said, never taking her sights off Sam.

Dean starred into Lilith's eyes, his gaze searing hers, and said, "All this friggin' time?" he asked, lips pressed into a thin line and quivering. "All this time you were pretending to be Ruby." It wasn't a question. Dean knew the answer.

"Yes, Dean. All this time."

"Sam, cover your eyes, you don't want to see what I am about to do."

"Dean, I can't let you."

"What do you mean you can't?" Dean flung his hand in the air in frustration. "She's been lying to you, dude! You've been drinking her blood," Dean gagged. "Think about what you're doing!"

"I did think, Dean, and I made a deal."

"Break it."

"It's solid."

"What kind of deal?" Dean snarled, his heart breaking, and hand shaking with the need to ram the sharp blade into the demon's heart -- if she had a heart.

"A deal of a lifetime, Dean," Lilith interupted. "The Sammy you know won't exist much longer. He made a deal that will fore fill his destiny." Lilith proudly crossed her arms over her chest. "Stupid, boy."

"You ever been bitch slapped, bitch?" Dean's hand trembled with fury as he lunged toward Lilith.

"Dean, no!" Sam shoved him backward.

"Sam!" Dean yelled his dismay, straining against his brother's hold. "What the…she's a friggin' demon. Why are you protecting her?"

"Dean, what I'm doing --" Sam eased off his hold on Dean. "It's going to save the world."

"You arrogant, bastard!" Dean ground out between tightly clenched teeth. "You can't believe that. Whatever she told you…Sam, you have to know it's a lie."

Lilith snorted, leaning back on her elbows against the unmade bed. "Very amusing. I'm going to enjoy this little preview of what is to come."

Ignoring Lilith, Dean's eyes racked over his brother half in shock, half in disgust.

"Dean, I can never make you understand. Just go," Sam said with such sadness it nearly drove Dean to his knees.

"I don't know who you are anymore, bro!" Dean paced back and forth. "I haven't known you since…"

"Since hell, Dean?" Sam questioned. "Because I haven't known you either. Hell took my brother from me and spit back somebody I hardly recognize."

"Come on!" Dean slammed his fist into a nearby dresser, so hard he stumbled backward. "Some hotshot college boy you are! You're really going to let a demon tell you what to do?" You're really going to take everything dad every taught us, believed in, fought for, friggin' sacrificed himself for, and flush it like a dead pet goldfish?" Dean pointed the tip of the knife at Sam's chest. "You're going to let demon spawn here come between us? She's going to kill you, Sam. She's going to kill you …and set Lucifer free. And you're friggin' helping her do it, man!" Overwhelmed, Dean turned away, tears springing to his eyes. "Remember once you asked me to watch out for you, Sam? Remember that? Remember you told me if you ever became something that you're not -- I should stop you?" Dean's tone dropped to a whisper. "You're there, Sam. Right in front of me. I'm looking at my baby brother, but you aren't him. You're turning into that monster you feared for so long." The words left a biter taste in Dean's mouth.

"Dean," Sam gasped. "That's not how it is."

"That is exactly how it is, little brother!" Dean whirled around, every muscle twitching with anger and fear.

"Nice performance." Lilith pushed herself off the bed and stood next to Sam, clapping her hands. "But, I'm afraid it's time, Sam." Red polished fingertips gripped Sam's forearm. "Time to pay Lucifer his dues."

"Sam." Dean breathed his denial.

He'd given everything he ever had to Sam his entire life, and Sam had just tossed everything back in his face. Deep inside, Dean felt a fiery ache. A blaze so hot it hurt worse than the flames of hell. He had to keep Sam safe. Had to save him. Could love alone destroy a man?. If so -- let it. He loved Sam. More than anything. If he had to die again, go to hell again to save his brother -- good.

Doing his best to ignore the burning pain, Dean yelled, "Back off him! Now!" Dean wanted to rip the she bitch apart, but he couldn't hurt Sam in the process.

Lilith seemed to read his mind and smiled wickedly.

"Sam," Dean glanced back to him. "Let me at her."

"I can't." Sam mumbled, his eyes taking on a glazed look. "Everything," he mumbled.

"Sam!" Dean's stomach clenched.

"Awe, Sammy, I do believe your brother is jealous of us. Dean, you can't stop the hand of fate."

"I'll rip you a new one -- fate, too!" Dean lunged forward, stirring the air like a merciless hurricane, slamming Sam to the floor with a groan. "You're dead," he turned, knife poised, ready to shove its point into Lilith's heart.

Lilith had that same wicked smile pasted on her face. Suddenly, her head snapped back, black smoke pouring out of her mouth, snaking across the room, and jamming down Sam's throat so hard his body convulsed against the dirty carpet.

Nooooooo!" Dean screamed in terror, watching Lilith's old host fall lifeless to the bed.

Horror and realization hit Dean hard, but not as hard as demon Sam's out- of-the-clear-blue right hook across his cheek. The last thing Dean saw was his baby brother straddled over him, staring down with black as pitch eyes -- Sam had given over to the dark side, and Dean couldn't stop him.

"Sammy," Dean's eyes fell shut.

TBC…


	3. Chapter 3

TAINTED BLOOD

By: Karen B.

PART THREE

Author's note: I don't know guys…I really don't…Crazy is as crazy does -- I guess. Just a hint this is not a death fic…Thanks for reading along. Sunshine always to you, Karen.

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Dean moaned, his head felt like a gutted pumpkin, and his mouth tasted like shoe leather. Damn he hated hangovers. He licked his lips, scowling and trying to focus on a single thought.

"Dean." A hand came to his chest and shook gently. "Dean" A voice buzzed in his ear.

Dean cracked open one eye to see Castiel hovering over him, close enough that he could smell his breath.

"Are you injured?"

"No, just unconscious," Dean grumbled, wondering just exactly what did angel's eat.

"Do you require an emergency vehicle?" Castiel asked.

"I require that you give me a little breathing room."

"My apologies."

"Cas, help me up."

Castiel wordlessly pulled Dean up by the arms.

"Sam?" Dean frowned, shaking his head clear and glancing around the room. "Lilith. Son of a bitch!" Dean scrambled around the room, gathering up weapons and tossing them into his bag. "Cas, Lilith was here. Sam was…he was drinking her… he is… "

"Sanguivorous," Castiel injected.

"Dude!" Deam zipped the bag shut. "Your English sucks."

Castiel didn't say anything, his eyes fixed on Dean for so long, Dean thought the angel might be seeing straight through to his soul.

"I will rephrase." Castiel finally spoke "Sam, has been subsisting upon blood," he said, in a slow and expressionless tone. "To exist."

"You knew about this?" Dean slung the bag over his shoulder, circling Castiel like a rabid animal stalking its prey.

"For a short time, yes."

"Damn it Cas!" Dean came to stand in front of him, fist's clenched at his sides. "When did you plan on telling me my baby brother is a demon-blood junkie?" Dean's eyes flashed with anger. "I take it you also know why he is doing this?"

"Your brother made a deal. To become stronger, become one with whom he feeds from." Castiel nodded grimly. "Sam's hunger is great. He can not stop. Can not control himself. He is no longer human."

"No!" Dean bit his lip, raising a fist and squelching the urge to bust Castiel in the mouth.

"Dean." Castiel didn't flinch. "Sam, is convinced he can save the world. Overpower Lilith. He is confused. He has allowed himself to be overtaken. Do you understand?"

Dean didn't say a word, his body rigid and face like stone.

"Sam is immune to Lilith's powers, but not from her blood," Castiel continued. "Her blood awakens the disease flowing through him."

"What the hell are you saying?" Dean curled his lip in disgust. "No, forget it. I don't have time for this." He headed for the door. "That damn she-bitch is inside my brother!" Dean shivered, feeling bitter cold as if ice had replaced his blood. "I have to find them -- him."

"That is why I came. To caution you."

"Caution me?" Dean tensed, hand reaching for the door knob.

"Yes. Sam and Lilith -- the two shall combine, mutate into one all powerful beast. Half-demon, half-human. One hand, two souls, spilling their shared blood upon holy ground, and..." Castiel titled his head.

"And?" Dean glanced over his shoulder, the heat of horror piercing his heart.

"The spilling of this mutated blood by the creatures own hand upon holy ground, will break the last seal. The demonic powers of their combined sacrifice is strong, Dean." Castiel's voice was low. "Her blood posses power and strength. Binds Sam to darkness. He can not do without. He yearns for only this. He will not be able to stop."

"You're saying Sam is going to turn into some kind of Mutant Ninja turtle or demon transformer? Come on!" Dean spat.

"I do not understand." Castiel cocked his head.

"Neither do I! And I don't have time!" Dean yelled

"Dean, in one monster's sacrifice --another is released."

"Lucifer!" Dean turned to face Castiel. "I have to get to Sam," he said, in a strained voice, not knowing where to start looking.

"Unfortunately, I am not on time in my warning."

"You think?" Dean said sarcastically. "And you learned all this in demonology 101?"

"Many angel's died to obtain this information."

"You know where Sam and that bitch are don't you?"

"Yes."

"Take me. Now!

"Dean." Castiel's eyes were stern, but his voice calm. "Something you should know."

"Wasn't that enough?"

"This will not be easy," The angel sighed.

"What ever has been?" Dean snipped.

"The time has come. The time your father spoke to you of."

"Yahtzee," Dean rolled his eyes. "I have to save, Sammy."

"Dean. It is too late for that now."

"What! No!" Dean jerked. "No!"

"There is nothing to be gained unless the beast is destroyed by the hand of a righteous man. The man who…" Castiel prompted Dean with a nod of his head.

"The man who began this whole apocalyptic thing," Dean said sadly.

"Yes."

"Cas!" Dean began to shake. "That creature, that monster you're talking about is fifty percent Sam. I can't. I can't. We have to find another way."

"Dean." Castiel frowned. "This is a great conflict for you, but you know this to be true. You are the key to victory."

"I am no friggin' key! I can't. I won't" Dean gave Castile a harsh stare. "I'd rather die."

"That is your decision to make." Castiel stared harshly back. "Would you feel the same if the person I spoke of was not, Sam? If it was a total stranger? Would you not do the right thing? Could you kill the beast then?" Castiel stood watching, waiting. "Dean?"

"You know the answer." Dean trembled, he would -- without a second thought. "Sammy," Dean whispered, his heart splitting in two. "Find someone else."

"Dean, if I kill the beast, Lucifer walks free. If any other hunter, human, or demon kills the beast -- spills it's blood upon holy ground, the world as you now know it -- will still die.. Chaos would reign supreme. Worse than any weapon of mass destruction your kind has ever seen." Castiel took a step forward.

"By chaos you mean, hell, fire, and fury," Dean gathered.

"Hell on earth." Castiel placed a hand to Dean's shoulder. "You of all can understand what that means."

Dean was frozen in place, stung by the painful realization. Deep inside, he knew what Castiel was saying was true. There were a million reasons to go blindly forth into battle, but only one not to.

"Your love for your brother is admirable. I know you hurt. I know you are scared. Dean, I can not blame you for your feelings, but this must be done. One life over the lives of all. Not just one town, one city, one state." Castiel lifted his hand. "The lives of everyone existing in heaven and on earth, rest in your hands." He pointed a finger at Dean.

"No pressure there," Dean muttered.

"Can you do this?" Castiel arched a brow.

"I'm not giving up on my brother. I can reach, Sam. I can get him to listen. He's strong. I can make him hear me. Get him to stop. Fight that bitch off from the inside."

"Sam… is beyond help. His dependency is a raw need that throbs through his soul. Dean?" Castiel cocked his head, boyish confusion on his face. "Are you willing to risk all of man kind? The kingdom of God? For only one man?"

"Cas, I have to try. Sam will fight for me. I can make this right, again. Save Sam -- everyone."

"Dean, if he won't. If you can't…you know what you must to do."

"I won't jump ship."

"No, you will not." Castiel nodded, pressing his index finger firmly against Dean's forehead.

TBC….

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	4. Chapter 4

TAINTED BLOOD

By: Karen B.

Chapter Four

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Darkness ebbed away, and Dean found himself inside the empty hollow of an old stone church. The air was cool, the scene quiet, nothing daring to stir and shatter the silence. He stepped in further through a small archway that lead to a chapel. The church appeared to be long abandoned, most of the pews on either side of the long aisle, broken. Several pedestals lining the stone walls were obviously missing the precious icons that once sat reverently upon them. At the front of the room was a wooden alter. Behind that, high up on the wall, a large, round, stained glass window. The sunlight streaming through the glass sent colored shapes dancing around on the floor like a disco ball.

The glass appeared to be one of the only things in the church left unbroken. Once a motif of color, the glass now was coated with a layer of dirty film. However, Dean could still make out the depiction of a man with bleeding wounds in his hands, feet and side -- lying lifeless in his mother's arms.

Dean dropped the weapon's bag at his feet, his fear built to boiling. With a trembling hand and unwilling heart, he unsheathed the demon-killing knife hanging from his belt loop.

"Sam," Dean's voice echoed through the quiet church. He stalked toward the alter, inhaling the musty smell of the church, struggling against the screaming voice of his father's words -- loud, and painful.

'If you can't save him -- you will have to kill him.'

"Sam." Dean took in a sharp breath.

There seemed to be no one home, only a few pigeon's roosting in the rafters. Good. Angels weren't always right. Maybe during demonology class Castiel had fallen asleep. Yet, the weight of what Dean knew to be true bore down on him. His blood running cold, and the darkness he knew he'd have to face -- worse than the darkness of ten-thousand hells combined.

"A righteous man -- my Fruit of the Looms," Dean muttered under his breath. A righteous man was good, honorable, blameless, honest and upright. He was non of those things. How could he be? How could he cut his brother open -- spill Sam's blood by his own hand. Was Castiel friggin' coo-coo for demon puffs? Damn angel was crazy, belonged in a straight jacket. "Sam!" Dean called louder.

"Sam's a little busy." Came a gruff voice, the figure detaching from a dark corner of the room.

"Son of a fugly!" Dean fought the urge to shrink away from the wave of unforgiving evil coming from the creature before him.

The two legged beast was large, with two horns jutting out of the top of its deformed head. Its skin was fiery red, and the thing's eyes gleamed with blackness. Grizzly fear filled Dean's heart, and he bit back a sob. He knew his brother's soul was inside the beast. Someway, somehow, he knew. Lilith's too -- if she had a soul.

"You've been a real pain in my ass!" Dean raised the knife over his head. "You mutant freak." Dean tried to keep calm, detach from this nightmare, but he was suffocating. "Give me back my brother," he panted heavily.

"I don't think so." The creature grinned, showing a set of sharp, pearly white fangs.

"Give me back, Sam!" Aggression crept into Dean's voice. "Or you're so tofu!"

"I prefer red meat," the creature said, smugly.

"Guess I'll just have to cut all that cholesterol out," Dean growled. "One slash at a time."

"How badly do you want to do that, Dean? Drag me down, you drag Sam down, too." The demonic beast licked its lips." Make the right choice or else…"

"Dean," Sam's voice came through -- a sickening shriek. In a flash, the inhuman face was replaced by the human trapped inside. Sam's skin was ashen, his eyes only half open, and head lolling loosely back and forth. "Dean, you have to kill it."

"Sammy!" Dean instinctively shot protectively forward, but a clawed hand knocking into his shoulder seemed to sever his legs and he fell to the ground in a heap. Clutching his injured shoulder, Dean stood. "Sam, you have to fight this whacked out Frankenstein."

"I'm trying." Sam's voice was weak, his image fading.

"There is nothing your brother can do." In a blur, the fugly face was back. "Destiny can not be changed. Our blood will spill. Sam will die, and my Lord will feast upon your kind and your world." The creature took several steps, dust swirling underneath its hoofed feet as it moved. "Before there was light -- there was complete darkness. And darkness shall come again."

The creature began to chant. Dean didn't understand the words, but they sounded evil, demonic, and as ancient as the universe itself.

"I will need your help, Dean," the creature hissed.

"You are one fucked-up, bitch!" Dean yelled, pulling a flask of holy water out and splashing the liquid on the creature.

"Is that all you have?" The creature laughed, completely uneffected.

"You screwed with the wrong brother." Dean gave a warning stare. "I'll make your Lord, Lucifer, look like a kiddie ride at Disney Land."

"Sounds fun." The creature smiled, seeming to enjoy the rivalry. "Give me the knife, Dean."

"Come and get it, fido."

The creature stomped forward, it's hoof-like feet dragging along the floor. The electricity in the air caused Dean's neck and arm hairs to stand on end, and prickly fingers skittered up and down his spine. The fear almost rocked him to the ground. How was he going to kill the demonic beast and not put a hair out of place on his brother's head?

Quick as lightning, a large claw-like hand swiped out at Dean, sharp talons catching him across the ribs. The knife plummeted to the floor and Dean lay grasping his side in pain.

"Son of a…" Dean scrambled to his feet, slip-slidding on the smoothness of marble. Dropping to his knees, searching. "Rrrrr!" He growled.

The creature pulled Dean back into its grasp. "I will enjoy this, destroying you, Dean. Before I destroy your brother and all of your kind," the creature roared, yanking Dean upward, his feet swaying three inches off the ground.

"Sam!" Dean gazed up into black unholy eyes.

"Wrong." The creature grinned toothily.

"Damn it, Sam! I know you're in there!" Dean dangled helplessly at the mercy of the half-demon, half-human creature.

"Sam is my pet, now." The creature toyed with Dean, shaking him like a twig in a windstorm.

"Sam! You little bitch! Answer me when I call you!" Dean yelled, using his best authoritative tone.

A light seemed to cross the creature's face, and Dean swore he could see the hazel of his brother's eyes shining behind ebony black.

"Sam, come on man…you've got to help me fight this!"

"Brother?" The word came out the creature's mouth." D'n." The voice sounded confused, the name jumbled, but it was Sam's.

"That's my boy!" Dean yelled his excitement. "Fight! Fight your way to me."

"Can't. Dean," Sam's voice issued from the creature. "You have to… kill it," Sam said, raw and desperate.

"I won't lose you." Dean shook his head, knowing his brother was hanging on by a thumbnail.

"Dude," Sam almost sounded amused. "You lost me when that bastard, Yellow Eyes dripped blood in my mouth. This is my destin…"

"I took his soul!" The creature gasped. "You can not stop us." The face darkened once more, white fangs glistening with saliva. "Together, Sam and I will raise my Lord."

The alter ego took advantage of his prey, slinging Dean around the church and repeatedly slamming his back against the stone walls.

Dean knew one drop of blood upon holy ground, taken by the creature's own hand would release, Lucifer. Sam wasn't going to be able to fight this. He was the only one who could kill the thing. How could he? Knowing his brother was a prisoner inside the beast.

The creature gripped Dean by the throat with one hand and squeezed, very slowly. Harder and harder, pushing Dean's head back into the stone and blocking his airway -- making him dizzy.

"Sam." Dean tried to gulp in any amount of air. "There's not much time. Do you hear me? You have to find a way out of there. Follow my voice. Sammy, please!" Dean begged, the whites of his eyes turning blood red, on the edge of blacking out.

The creature's body began to twitch involuntarily, fingers weakening their hold around Dean's neck.

"Dean." Sam's voice was back, by sheer willpower alone. "Do it. Get the knife and do it, now! I can't hold… Dean! You have to!"

"Sam, I won't kill you…w-won't!" Dean choked, and his body trembled. "Please, oh God, pl-please…can't." Dean could feel his brother's presence, yet he was staring into the face of hell.

"Now!" Sam yelled, the vice grip on Dean's throat released and he slid to the floor.

Dean gasped and gurgled, glancing around desperately he drug air back into his lungs. Spying the knife, lying under a broken pew, he crawled on hands and knees away from the creature. He was naseous, wanting to heave. This wasn't real. Couldn't be real. On auto-pilot, Dean somehow made his way to the knife.

Dean turned to see the devil-like demon laboring for every breath, struggling as it staggered over to the stained glass mirror.

"Yes, father." The beast raised a shaky clawed hand.

The beast smashed the glass, colored shards musically raining to the ground. The creature teeter-tottered, fighting an inner strength as its talons groped along on the floor.

"Gaaaa!" Sam's voice hissed out. "Dean!" He desperately fought to keep the creature at bay.

Dean was on his feet, just as the beast nabbed a large, jagged piece of colored glass.

"Do it. You have to do it!" Sam panted with effort, but he was fading.

The creature's wobbly hand raised the shard to its own throat and began to slice across its neck. The good still left in Sam tried to fight the evil from within, but the creature's hand tightened and relaxed in an unseen battle of wills.

Dean could see a thin line of blood appear. Red droplets about to patter onto holy ground. All it would take was one drop. One drop and the entire world would be damned. The good that was, Sam, inside the evil body couldn't hold on any longer. There was no more time. Dean had to end this before one drop of mutated blood could fall. Dean swallowed the taste of fear, grief already bleeding his heart. His hand wrapped tightly around the hilt of the knife, he held his breath and charged. Dean forced his feet to move, combating the knowledge that his only brother was hidden, trapped behind the pearly fangs and black gleaming eyes. Imaginary, ice-cold fingers tried to grip his ankles, trip him up, stop him from killing his brother. Combat training took over, breath snorted out Dean's nose, and his eyes grew wild. Now a force of nature, Dean tracked the creature. Guilt, fear, betrayal eating him alive. Destroy the demon. Save man kind. Dean's final thought -- was he not part beast himself.

"Ahhhhhhhhh! Dean barreled forward across the marbled floor, lunged into the air, knuckles turnign white as he buried the knife to its hilt into the beast's chest.

The moment the knife left his hand, Dean wished he could reclaim the weapon. The creature's head arched back and screamed, a volcanic blast of red spray spattering to the ground.

Tainted blood -- taken by the hand of a righteous man.

Dean pulled the knife from the beast's chest, sickened by the blood covered blade, knowing what he'd done. The creature hissed out one last breath, disappearing into a ring of smoke, a broken body left in its wake. Dean was momentarily stunned. Frozen as he watched Sam stagger, grabbing for his chest, his face gray, blood pumping in spurts between his fingers.

"Dean?" Sam met Dean's steady gaze. "You did it." A breath escaped, Sam's eyes rolled upward and he collapsed to the floor.

Dean still stood frozen. Sunlight beaming in through the broken stained glass -- illuminating his brother's fallen body. Several silent minutes of grief flooded Dean's soul. The world had been saved. Lucifer, stopped. Lilith, somehow gone. To hell with that, Dean didn't care, for his whole world lie dying, in a puddle of blood, upon the cold marble floor.

"Nooooooooooo!" Dean released his grip on the knife, the weapon clattering loudly against marble.

TBC….

*** Never fear…this is not a death story.


	5. Chapter 5

**TAINTED BLOOD**

**CHAPTER Five**

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Everything had happened in a flash of stabbing pain.

"Nooooo!" Dean rushed to get to his brother, for the second, or was it the third time that day feeling utterly helpless. "Sam!" Dean dropped to his knees, sliding across the cold marble floor the last few inches.

De-De-Dean." The word slipped out slowly as Sam struggled to raise his head.

"No, just don't move." Dean muttered, weighing his brother's condition with his eyes. Sam stared vacantly off to his left, bleeding badly from the chest wound, and having a lot of difficulty breathing "Cas!" Dean shouted shrilly. Catstiel!" he shouted again. "Don't be a dick. Where are you? Make this right!" Dean's hand hovered over Sam's chest, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Sam choked, his hand brushing blindly against a jean clad thigh, weak fingers unable to take hold of anything.

"Sam! Sam." A nameless voice called to him. "Sam, please," the voice coaxed.

"Dean," Sam breathed, suddenly conscious of his brother leaning over him. "Uhgggg.," His lip's trembled as he zeroed in on Dean's fear-filled face.

"Easy, everything's going to be okay, Sam."

"Liar." Sam turned his head away and coughed, feeling warm blood spread across his chest.

"How many times do I have to tell you it's not healthy to let a demon posses you." Dean's tone was gruff with fear.

"Oh, yeah," Sam tried to laugh, but something stuck in his throat and he choked again instead.

"This is your second offense," Dean spoke softly, desperate to keep Sam talking. "Remember the rules." He rubbed his thumb over Sam's cheek. "Three strikes and your out. Next time…"

"Won't be a next time."

"What? What are you talking about, bitch!" Dean's entire body tensed, his face flushing a deep red, anger reflecting in his eyes. "Don't. Don't you do that. I said it's going to be okay. Cas can fix this."

"No. Let you down," Sam said, tears slipping out of the corners of his eyes.

"No. No." Dean tried to ignore the sporadic in and out pants. "No you didn't let me down, and you're going to hold on." Dean slipped a hand under his brother's head and raised him upward -- eye to eye. "This isn't like walking out the door and heading off to college. Hate to go, Dean, but I got a law degree to earn. Send me a postcard once in awhile. I'll be back -- Arnold Schwarzenegger, bullshit." Dean's words were harsh with fear. "I can't lose you -- not again -- not like this.."

"Dean." It was getting harder for Sam to breathe, and darkness was creeping in. "My fault, not yours. I'm the one who ignored everyone's warnings. Snuck out, drank her blood, let you dow…" Sam swallowed. "Cold. It's cold." His head lolled to one side.

"Hey…hey…hey." Dean gently lowered his brother's head to his lap, quickly shedding out of his leather and lay the jacket over him. "Non of this is your fault. You could never let me down. It's all me. I did this to you."

"Dean, no." Sam shook his head weakly. No. You…you stopped Lucifer. I'm proud of you. I thought …" Sam grimaced. "I thought I had her in my control, had the power to stop this. Dean…" Sam drew in a small breath.

"Sam," a whisper. "Hold on." Dean gathered Sam up into his arms.

"I can't do it, Dean. I can't."

"Yes you can." Dean stared in horror at the blood and gore pooling under Sam's body. "You can," he repeated, a squeamish sick feeling filling his gut.

"You did everything you could for me, Dean. Always did." Sam's throat worked convulsively "Now you…now you have to let me go."

"Samantha, stop being so melodramatic -- You're not going to die! Castiel!" Dean yelled, staring into the pale face. "Damn you, Sam! Don't you do this"

"Dean, stop pretending and promise me." Sam shuddered. "No more." He took in a deep breath. "No deals. I can't. I won't --have you go to hell again."

"I won't promise you that, Sam. I'll make whatever deal I have to make."

Sam opened his mouth to protest, but no words would come.

"No talking, man. I'll do all the talking. You're not dying on me, bro! Not by my hand!" Dean yelled as if saying it loud enough would make it so.

"Destiny did this to me, Dean, not you." Sam's pallor was slowly turning from pasty-white to off- purple. "Not much time. Tell me…" No more deal making. Let me hear you say it."

Dean shook his head no, tears rushing down his face.

"Dean," Sam choked. "Pl-please," his voice getting weaker. "I need …just say it."

Sam waited expectantly, pleadingly, puppy dog eyes shining. A cloak of silence hung between them. Sam stared unblinking up at Dean, his heart fluttering and skipping beats, disconnected, drifting like sand being pulled away by ocean waves.

"Sam," Dean gasped breaking the silence. "You with me?" Frantic fingers groped for a pulse.

"Still with you," Sam whispered.

"Don't do that." Dean lowered his chin to his chest.

"Promise me, Dean."

If their roles were reversed, Dean suspected Sam would have the guts and the strength for such a pledge -- he did not.

"Sam." Dean raised his head, and gave a small shake denying the promise.

Sam whispered something Dean had to lean forward and strain to hear. "You're my brother." Sam blinked. "You did it," he gasped, scowling in pain. "You did what dad told you to do. Thank you." Sam's eyes rolled up in his head toward the right for a second, then blinking again.

"Don't you do that." Dean grasped Sam's hand, and squeezed. "Don't you dare. You're not going to say some cheesy goodbye to me." Dean's eyes wide with fear.

Castiel suddenly appeared at Dean's side.

"Do something," Dean ordered, feeling the angel's presence, never taking his gaze off Sam. "Pray, use your holier-than thou-mojoe," Dean begged.

Castiel lay his palm to Sam's head, and they locked gazes. The angel sat silently for a while stroking Sam's hair, a stern look on his face.

"Don't worry," Castiel told Sam. "You are close."

Sam nodded, giving the angel a weak smile, but then gasped for breath.

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean yelled. "Sam, I won't let you die."

"You can't stop this, Dean," Castiel said, compassionately.

"Help him!" Dean screamed the words so loud Castiel flinched as if he had just taken a physical punch to his face.

"Dean." Castiel sat back, his face blank of all emotion. "It is not my place."

"Of course it's your place!" A burning rage built inside of Dean's gut. "You're an angel. You can do this. You have to do this!" Dean reached over, one-handedly snatching a fist full of Castiel's coat. "Friggin' do this! You owe me!"

"I am sorry." Castiel diverted his gaze to the floor.

"Dean," Sam whispered. "He can't. It's my…"

"Dude, " Dean released Castiel, staring into Sam's eyes. "If you say destiny so help me..."

"You'll clock me?" Sam grinned, but Dean could see his brother was fading.

"Not funny." Dean winced, feeling the warmth leaving Sam's body.

"It's a little funny." Sam tried to inch his way up a little.

"Take it easy, Sam."

"Dean," Sam breathed out, collapsing limp against him.

"Don't! Dean snapped angrily. "Sam!" He wrapped his arms tighter around his brother. "Don't. Please," he whispered. "Don't. Sam?" Dean continued to stare into his brother's eyes, a dark, empty room -- blind to this world.

"He is gone, Dean," Castiel said softly.

"No. No he's not." Dean shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. "He's not dead. Sam." He gave his brother a violent shake. "You hear me, jerk? You're not dead."

"He is at peace."

"No," Dean choked on a sob.

"Everything lives, Dean. Everything dies. Everything is connected to the light, but only those who can see will find their way to that light."

"What light? Where was this light when I was in hell?" Dean's lower lip trembled. "I told Sam I would protect him. I wouldn't let anything ever happen to him. I promised him, when he was just a baby, promised myself." Grief burned a hole in Dean's heart bigger than any hellhole ever could. "Where?" He turned his attention to Castiel. "Where is this peace? Where? In heaven? With your God?"

"He is your God too, Dean."

"Bullshit!" Dean's jaw twitched

"You still do not believe in him?" Castiel cocked his head questioningly.

"Oh, I believe in the son of a bitch, alright! The guy just has it out for me, and my family!"

"Dean, God is not vengeful."

Dean turned to Sam, stroking a long piece of hair out of his brother's sightless eyes, and tracing a finger down the side of his face. Sam's skin was already cold, and the pain of that reality was more than Dean could stand.

"Sam." He buried his head against Sam's chest, a single sob escaping his lips. "Want to know what I believe, Cas?" Dean didn't wait for an answer. I believe…" Dean stood in a flash of rage. " I believe your God gets his kicks out of playing with us like cheap chess pieces."

"Dean." Castiel stood.

Dean stomped over to the alter, with one sweeping hand sending the wood crashing to the floor.

"I believe…your God is a coward, hiding behind a white silk rob, sitting high and mighty in his chair. Safe and sound behind his pearly gates. Watching the rest of us run around down here so jacked up it's no wonder more than half of us end up in hell."

Castiel stared in silence.

"Show yourself!" Dean looked upward, shaking his fist. "You can't! Can you! Send your angels, destroy your demons, kill my brother. Take away everything I ever lived for, ever cared about -- ever loved." Dean turned to Castiel. "Is that your God? A God who won't use his own powers to save his only son?" Dean indicated the broken stain glass.

"Dean, that is blasphemy," Castiel warned sternly. "God wants you to trust him. Have faith."

"Faith in what? Death? Destruction? Hell?" Dean knelt down nabbing a large shard of glass. "What should I do, Cas? Tell me! Kneel? Kneel before a God who doesn't give a crap about me or my family?" Dean's tone was thick and his vision blurry. "You want me to wish to a God who never listens? Who could care less if we live or die? Do you really think he cares about you, Cas? Ordering you blindly around? Sam's dead. And you and your God did nothing to help him."

"I am sorry." Castiel shook his head.

"Sorry, this." Dean placed the shard to his throat.

"No!" Castiel pointed a finger.

The colored glass shattered, falling from Dean's hand as he staggered backward in a daze

Dean sucked in air that seemed to evaporate before it ever reached his lungs. In defeat he, moved back to Sam, dropping to his knees.

"Sam," he cried, lifting his brother's limp body back into his arms. If you won't let me do it myself, you do it for me." He looked to the ceiling begging to a God he knew was there. "Take me, too. Just take me. Take me to where he is. No more bullshit. No more hunting. No more demons -- just," Dean sobbed. "No more living on the run. No more anything." He rested his forehead against Sam's. "There's nothing left," he said, broken and bitter, Dean rocked his baby brother in his arms.

"Dean." Castiel crouched next to him. "Ask him. You must ask God into your heart."

"I can't. It won't bring Sam back." He tugged Sam closer, hurting so deeply even the tears couldn't come any longer.

Castiel held out his hand. "Take my hand, Dean. Pray with me."

"Why? Why should I?" Dean shook his head.

"Because, I promised Sam that you would."

"What? What did you say?" Dean swallowed a huge gulp of air.

"Dean, take my hand. You must learn to see the world through new eyes. Pray. Sam wanted you to pray. To fill the empty hole hell made in your soul."

Dean looked at the weight that was Sam's body in his lap. If hell was rock bottom what was this? Whatever this was he'd reached it. There was no where left to go. No one to turn to. He was lost. At least in hell he knew where he was. Here in a black void of nothingness the depth of darkness -- was -- there were no words. With no where else to go, Dean reached his hand out, and Castiel grasped it in both of his. Fear, shame, guilt, love, devotion, honor, heaven and hell gripped Dean's heart and squeezed. The aching in his soul almost killing him.

"How, Cas?" Dean asked.

"Close your eyes."

Dean hesitated.

"Trust in him, trust in yourself, Dean. Search for that light you once carried inside you so long ago. It is still there, Dean. "

Dean let out a long breath and closed his eyes

"Let go, Dean. Let go of everything earth bound. Do not let hate hold you." Castiel was quiet for a moment. "Let go of Sam. See with your heart -- not with your eyes. Unchain your soul, Dean Winchester. Let it all go. Everything -- you are everything."

Dean ground his teeth, desperate to let the pain, hate. and fear go. He'd carried the load all his life. Castiel was whispering words Dean didn't understand -- words soft as sparrow's wings. Dean searched deep within his heart. Searched for a way to transcend all that was ugly in his life. Stripping away the evil of hell until he found that light, small as it was.

"God," he uttered the word out loud, embracing what he had cursed.

For what felt like eternity, Dean and Castiel sat huddled around Sam, eyes closed, hands clasped, head's bowed.

Someone took in a deep breath breaking the silence. Dean felt a familiar presence, but was afraid to look -- could he believe?

"Open your eyes, Dean."

"I can't. I don't want to see him like that."

"Dean?" The heavy weight in his lap stirred.

"Sam?" Dean's eyes shot open wide. "Sammy!" He shouted, beside himself with joy .

"Dean?" Sam's eyes fluttered open.

"Cas? Sam? I…I can't believe it."

"Dean, yes you can. You believed. You left everything behind gave yourself over --believed. That is what he wanted of you."

"Thank you." Dean looked to the shattered glass. "I owe you."

"You owe nothing," Castiel informed. "Sam will recover in time," Castiel said, nodding at Sam. "You are a good man, Dean Winchester. We will meet again, when it is you time." And with a flapping of wings -- the angel of the Lord was gone.

"I was…I was dead… wasn't I?" Sam licked his lips. "But?" Sam took in a breath. "Dean? The word barely a whisper. "You didn't? Did you make a…" Sam's eyes fell shut in utter exhaustion.

"No, Sammy. No deal's." Dean moved a piece of sticky, damp hair off Sam's forehead. "Not this time. Only by the grace of…" Dean looked upward. "God."

TBC….


	6. Chapter 6

TAINTED BLOOD

EPILOGUE

FADE TO BLACK

Summary: This is my sappy, soapy, peaceful dream of how I'd like to see the series end -- good luck -- too me!

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Wha'?" The Impala door opened, jarring Sam awake.

"We're here." Dean hiked a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the spectacular scene behind him.

For a moment, Sam couldn't move from his seat. He blinked, looking past Dean to the view. Shadows cast down from the darkening clouds above. Their silhouette prowling across the purple, gold, and red hue of the craggy rocks of Hopi Point. It was hard to imagine that it had taken tens of millions of years for the region to form its wide open valleys, plateaus and steep-walled gorge. The abstract stone cliffs, and weird shapes of the Grand Canyon were mesmerizing.

"Whoever knew rocks could be so awesome," Dean said with an air of awe, never taking his eyes off Sam. "You ready?"

Sam was silent. His body relaxed, the long car ride to Arizona was the easiest he'd slept in -- well in years.

"You okay?" Dean kept his voice smooth and calm.

It had been weeks since what Dean and Sam had come to call -- 'That day'. The danger gone. Not so much as a cattle mutilation, freak lightning storm, or unexplained phenomenon had occurred. It seemed the supernatural world had stopped circling them like the hungry wolves they were, and all was quiet on the Western front. Yet, fear and guilt still snaked its way through Dean's heart -- there were still three other fronts -- to confront. Dean knew it was only a matter of time before some demon found another sacrificial lamb to use against the world, but for now they were safe.

"Sam, look at me," Dean called quietly.

Sam stirred in his seat, unable to take his eyes off the beauty.

"Hey!" Dean whistled impatiently through his teeth. "A girl applying mascara on a roller coaster can move faster than you."

"What?" Sam broke his gaze, wonder-struck eyes meeting Dean's.

"Bro, what's going on?"

"It's breathtaking." Sam's tone thread thin.

"Sammy," Dean laughed softly, taking Sam by the arm and helping him out of the car. "You're just out of shape," he said, wishing that wasn't true. His brother, although healed, was still weak from yet another near death experience.

Sam's long legs untangled and he slipped on the graveled ground nearly taking them both down. "Slow." Dean caught their balance "Slow. Slow. Slow." Dean warned, his features going stone-cold -- matching the view around him. "You, okay?" he helped Sam sit on the hood of his car.

"I'm good, Dean."

"You hungry?"

Sam nodded, rubbing the grit of sleep from his eyes.

"Good, 'cause I'm starving." Dean disappeared in a flash.

Sam scooted back until he rested against the car's windshield. The metal beneath his ass was warm and the glass against his back, cool. Sam took in a few deep breaths, enjoying the quiet calm as the sun crept lower in the sky.

"While you were having your Rip Van Winkle moment…" Dean reappeared. "I stopped at a Convenience Mart and got us a few things." Dean effortlessly hopped up onto the hood, digging in a plastic bag. "Apple Juice and peanut butter and grape jelly for you." He handed Sam his food. "Italian sub with jalapenos and six pack of Coarse for me."

"P.B.J?" Sam frowned. "Get out of dodge, Dean."

"Sam, you're lucky to be back in dodge. You're not ready for pickles and ice cream, man." Dean popped the tab and took a swig of beer.

"Martha Stewart, you're not." Sam stuck out his lower lip, pouting.

"Seriously?" Dean gave Sam a confused look. "Dude, that hasn't worked since you were, seven. Eat, Sammy." Dean encouraged.

"Eat, Sammy," Sam mimicked, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Good, boy." Dean smiled, happy to see Sam eating he took a bite of his sub.

"Good, boy," Sam mimicked again.

"Looks like something out of an Indian Jones movie." Dean took another swig of beer, looking out over the canyon.

"Looks like something out of an Indian Jones movie." Sam took a swig of apple juice.

"Sam." Dean shot his brother an evil look.

"Sam." The response came quickly.

"Are you copying me?"

"Are you copying me?"

"Stop that."

"Stop that."

"What are you, eight?" Dean narrowed his eyes.

"What are you, eight?"

"Come on!" Both brother's said in unison.

"Dude, you suck."

"Dude, you suck."

"Enough," Dean cautioned, giving Sam's arm a playful punch ending the game.

"Yeah, okay," Sam laughed, not pushing the game further. Titling his head back against the glass, he stared up to the pink and purple sunset sky. The whoosh of the warm wind and the heat of the Impala's hood was making him sleepy again. "So, of all the places we could go for a vacation, why here?" Sam asked, taking another small bite of his sandwich.

An eerie quiet replaced the previous child-like banter. Sam turned his head to see his brother's face. Worn, green eyes twinkling with unshed tears, yet Sam could see a newfound inner strength that was never there before.

"Dean?" he questioned.

"Dad." Dean whispered, shifting his gaze to Sam. "Dad always talked about coming here."

"He did? How come I never knew that?"

"You and Dad were like a couple of kangaroos in a boxing match. Always squaring off. It's hard to pay attention when you're ducking a right hook," Dean chuckled lightly.

"I guess you're right." Sam snorted. "So why the Grand Canyon and not Hawaii or some tropical island paradise."

"Tropical island paradise was my dream," Dean admitted with a devilish smile.

"Dean, your idea of a tropical paradise is… you stretched out on a lumpy motel bed of magic fingers, wearing a tee shirt and boxers, with a cold beer in one hand and a porn mag in the other."

"True," Dean waggled a brow. "But, Dad -- he had a list."

"What kind of a list?"

"A, 'sixty-seven things to do before you die', list." Dean shrugged. "This was the one number he never got to," he said sadly, turning his attention back to the craggy rocks.

"So..." Sam nodded his understanding. "You're doing this for, dad." It wasn't a question. "Why sixty-seven?" Sam asked in after thought.

"Think about it, Sam?" Dean patted the hood of the car.

"No." Sam's eyes lit up in wonderment.

"Guess Dad and you had more in common then you think, Sam."

"How so?"

"Both your brains always working over time."

"I don't believe it."

"Believe it or not, Ripley, it's true."

"I guess it is," Sam said fondly, scooting a little closer to Dean. "Dean, what do you want to do?"

"Sit here and drink my beer."

"No. I mean, what do you want to do with our lives from here on out?"

"What do you think we should do, Sam?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't know." Sam leaned forward, stretching out his legs. "We could both go to college."

"No." Dean shook his head.

"Work at Home Depot?" Sam yawned.

"Hell, no," Dean mumbled around the last bite of his sandwich.

"How about a video store."

"What kind?" Dean's face broke out in a slow smile.

"The rated PG-13 kind, Dean," Sam muttered. "How about we become billionaire business men." Sam leaned back, struggling not to yawn again and taking a small sip of juice.

"Yeah, that." Dean reached over and ruffled Sam's hair.

They sat shoulder-to-shoulder. Quiet and still, watching the rosy pink sky until the dark purple of twilight rolled in. Sam smiled to himself, enjoying the moment. A moment without madness, without nightmares. A moment of beauty. Like the end of a good book, the superheros walking off into the sunset -- cliché' never felt so good. There was nothing left to hide. No more secrets. Only open space between he and Dean. No demons or angels pulling them apart -- in different directions. Life now began and ended on their schedule, on their terms. Maybe, he and Dean could just be brother's again.

A pair of eagles sailed over the gorge, wings outstretched as if to take each other's hand. Sam rubbed his eyes, half-drunk with happiness, half-drunk with sleep, on the verge of tears.

"Hey." Dean's voice was firm, but the nudge to Sam's ribs was gentle.

"What?" Sam looked blurrily at Dean, sensing his worry.

"You…"

"I'm okay." Sam answered before the question was asked, slightly annoyed at being babied.

"That's not what I was going to say," Dean whined.

"Oh, no?" Sam eyed him suspiciously.

"No."

"What then?" Sam challenged.

"You think we'll see any nude hikers?" Dean's eyes darkened with lust.

"Come on!" Sam spat apple juice.

"Relax, Father Sarducci, it's the new thing."

"You think God likes hearing you talk that way, Dean?"

"Don't you worry, Sam. God and I have an understanding."

"Oh, yeah." Sam's curiosity peeked. "What kind of understanding?" he asked, blinking heavily.

"We're getting to know each other." Dean stared at Sam for a few long seconds, then turned his attention to the canyon. "That's a big chunk of rock," he said, without further explanation.

"Dude," Sam huffed, not getting the answer he was looking for. "The Grand Canyon is not just a chunk of rock. It's one of the seven natural wonders of the world, 277 miles long and 446 kilometers long, ranges in width from about 0.1 to 18 miles and 0.2 to 29 kilometers and extends in a winding course from the mouth of the Paria River. Its greatest depths lie more than a mile, some 6,000 feet 1,800 meters below its rim and…"

"Calling all geeks," Dean grumbled. "I didn't think you're head was big enough to store so much info," Dean snuffed. "Anything else you want to tell me, bro?"

"There's this glass 'Skywalk' that sits along the edge of the Grand Canyon overlooking the Colorado River. The horseshoe-shaped glass walkway is suspended 1,200 meters above the canyon, capable of holding 70 tons of weight (the equivalent of 800 people weighting in at 175 pounds each, but…"

"That's just wacky," Dean interrupted.

"Want to know something even more wacky?" Sam baited.

"What?" Dean bit.

"When you're 80... I'll only be 76," Sam smirked, rubbing his eyes again.

"Ha. Ha." Dean moaned. "You've had enough for one day, Sammy. You need to get some sleep."

"Not yet." Sam pouted. "So, you and God are getting to know each other, huh?" Sam tried again to extract the information.

"Somebody else I want to get to know." Dean put an arm around Sam and pulled him close to his side. "Sam. Not my baby brother, but the man.

"Dean, have you been watching Days Of Our Lives again?" Sam laughed softly.

"General Hospital." Dean admitted.

Laughter and brotherly love filled the canyon to brimming as the last of twilight faded to black.

That's all she wrote.


End file.
